


Sunburnt and Happy

by GonnaTryThisAgain



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Letters, M/M, Mexico, Unfinished Business
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GonnaTryThisAgain/pseuds/GonnaTryThisAgain
Summary: Where Mickey has a lot to say and there wasn't enough time to say it.





	

     Ian finds the letter weeks later in the junk drawer of the Gallagher house trying to find a pen. It's half buried under a takeout menu and one of Liam's drawings. The envelope is battered and there are about ten more stamps than are necessary on the outside. There is no return address. Ian feels his stomach drop just looking at it. He doesn't know how he knows....he just does. He can feel it. His name is written in Mickey's crooked scrawl, it's spelled correct. The pen has bled on the second L like Mickey really wanted to make sure he got that down.

    "Ian?"

     Ian clears his throat and grabs the first pen he sees, "Yep, I got it." He slips the letter into his pocket before turning and handing it to Fiona.

     She's looking at him with that look on her face. The one where she wants him to spill his guts and land in her arms like when he was a kid. Ian was always the least likely to anyway. Too independent and selfish to want to be one of the many to lean on Fiona. When the choice was Fiona or Kash or Mickey or Mandy, he always leaned a certain way. He liked to keep things to himself. "Anything else you need at the store?" she asks.

      "Nope."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

      The letter sits in his wallet for three days. He doesn't know who first got it and stuck it in the drawer. He doesn't know if they knew who it was from or if they even cared enough to know. Ian talks himself into reading it a dozen times and talks himself right back out of it. They said goodbye. It was the end of it. What if it wasn't the end of it though? What if Mickey needed something and was just now thinking about it? What if he was caught and in a Mexican jail right now waiting to be extradited? Ian couldn't help his thoughts racing. Trevor was asking if he still felt balanced on his meds. How can you tell someone that this has nothing to do with bipolar and everything with how you disappeared for two days and never gave him an explanation. The look in his eyes tells you that he has a good idea of where you were though, no matter how many times you said you were just taking care of shit.

       Ian finally opens the letter when he's alone in the Gallagher house. It's eerily quite when you're there alone. Growing up there was nothing but noise echoing in the rooms and now it never quite feels like home. Carefully opening it, he makes sure not to tear the envelope and do damage. The letter is creased and worn like it is decades old. Mickey's handwriting fills the page. His heart beating fast Ian take a seat at the table. At first he just looks at it, knowing that it was in Mickey's hands. The curves of his writing almost feel like him for a moment. He starts to read.

 

_Ian,_

_I debated sending this letter to you. I kept it in my pocket for about a week. The edges were worn and the paper soft from being crumpled. Eventually it felt like it was lead in my pocket and I could barely move with it. In the joint I had a couple shrinks, go figure yeah? Maybe I was the crazy one all along. There was this one feel good chick who said when I was really feeling something I should write it down. Y'know, to get it out of my head or some shit. I never did it in jail. It seemed more dangerous to let the anger go than to keep it bottled up ready to explode if anyone looked the wrong way at me. I think I was supposed to burn it, or shred it, she said to let it go and move on. I'm not ready to move on._

_I love you. Like really, spend the rest of my life with you, love you. We've been together for years Ian. As crazy as it seems and as many times as we have not been actually together. Maybe in all of this you feel like the bigger and better man, maybe you are, but I can't feel like that anymore. I have given so much for you. I have changed who I am to be what you need. I like the man I've become. You've made me a better person. You have sure as hell made me a better lover and father. You have never let me feel like I am, though. Am I not a better man to you? Is what I've done still not enough? I absolutely know that I have not always been a good man to you. We have laid hands on each other out of anger. I have made you feel unwanted and alone many times. Times when I felt you asked too much I just left. But honestly I have tried to try. I have tried to be gentle with you, came out to my fag-bashing homophobic family for you. I couldn't be too gentle though, because then I'm a pussy who can't fuck like you want. You need the piece of shit you fell for so I tried to be hard and fearless for you. Take blood where blood was drawn. Show your scheming bitch of a sister who she messed with. But then that didn't really work either, did it?_

_When times got really hard....when you got sick in your head, I tried to understand._ _I stuck by you through fucking everything. Nights when you didn't fucking come home, out making a quick buck by fucking some twink on camera. Fucking guys behind my back like I ain't playing house with you like you always acted like you wanted. I talked you down from using your fists when I couldn't even see you looking back at me, I swear to god it was like you were dead inside. I stayed. Take my kid to god knows where and end up in jail. When none of your family was by your side, I was. You were my family and I gave you everything I had. Your family turned their back on you, don't ever think they loved you more than I did in those moments. Don't you fucking dare let them make me the bad guy in this. I bet they know every drop of blood I ever drew from you but they don't know the shit you did to me. They don't know how cruel you get when you don't get what you want. They don't know. I know they never liked me. I know despite who you guys are I'm still the south side trash here. I know that's how they feel. I know I ain't their fucking family no matter how many nights I stayed or breakfasts I ate. You ain't got no loyalty but to blood in that house. Fuck the world, it can burn if it makes one of you feel like you were right._

_Going to fucking appointments and visiting institutions and military jails. Fucking begging over voicemails and waiting at home for you. Telling fucking strangers that I'm your fucking partner and family while you look right through me. You can blame your disorder for some but not for all the shit you've done to me. I...I scraped out parts of me you didn't want and gave you the raw bloody mess of me. I stood in front of you promising you everything and you told me I wasn't good enough. I basically told you our shit was marriage to me and you walked away while your half-baked crack pot of a sister almost killed me. I asked you to wait for me, looking through glass while you stared back like you were waiting for me to just give up. I know eight years is a long time, I know that I have no right to that much of your life. I know...I know that was never going to happen but it still felt possible, yeah? After everything. After closets, juvie, the army, jail, bipolar...fuck, I believed that we could have walked through fucking hell and come out together. I think you got the best of me, Gallagher._

_Maybe we weren't good for each other. I know that we weren't always stable or sane or even normal. Maybe when I went away your life got better while I pined away in prison like a bitch wondering if one day you were gonna show up. Because you know, I thought that's what always happened, through everything one of us always fucking showed up. Maybe I'm not a good man, maybe I'm not right for you. But you don't get to come out of this looking like a good guy. I'm driving until the road ends and my ass is facing the ocean. And I'm not going to tell you where I end up. The less you know the better right? Maybe it's not fair for me to send this knowing that you aren't going to get a chance to defend yourself, but welcome to the fucking club of being with you. I know that it's crap that I'm telling you what a piece of shit you are, while telling you how much I love you. I hope when you get this I'm sunburnt and happy with a good fucking buzz. I hope when you get this.....I hope you're happy. After everything I just really hope you are happy. Maybe this isn't who you are anymore. I don't really think this was ever who you were, you've never been one to bend for me. That's alright. I love you. Look after my kid, yeah? Make sure he doesn't end up with a shitty dad like me or our dads. When I think of you, I'm gonna remember all the good shit, okay? None of the blood or tears. Just you fucking smiling at me like I'm the whole fucking world. Just let me have that._

_Mickey_

_PS I really do love you, firecrotch. I get that you couldn't just leave your life for me. You got good shit going for you. I know that it's good for your head and shit to have routine and a stable life, I read about it. I ain't ever been stable for you. I'm proud of you with your bank account and EMT shit. I hope you do good. I hope you get out of that shithole._

 

    Ian just stared at the letter through blurred eyes. All he could feel was numb.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings. :(


End file.
